


A Blessed Birthday

by SheWhoIsIgnored



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Feels, Flashbacks, M/M, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:50:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8641237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoIsIgnored/pseuds/SheWhoIsIgnored
Summary: Two souls make a heaven out of Hell.





	1. To The Bride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RussianHatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianHatter/gifts).



((This is a belated birthday gift to one of my favorite writers on A03, RussianHatter.  
I can’t apologize enough for not writing or posting as much as I should ever since I got this account!  
So, without further ado, here is part one of a two part series about our-me and Hatter’s especially-OTP’s birthdays. Hope you like it Darling!  
P.S….Also, I do /not/ own Outlast or Outlast: Whistleblower. Red Barrels does. But I do own my twisted romantic of a mind.

P.P.S This fic is a divergence from canon, starting from when Waylon fell from the ladder and broke his leg. Personally, I always thought Eddie wasted a good opportunity there…and hope I do him justice.))

PROLOGUE  
It had all started when his Darling ran from him like a startled doe, swift and silent, nothing like the other vulgar, loud whores who decorated the gymnasium.  
They always swore and screamed at him, ungrateful to the last.  
She was so playful, his golden haired Darling…but she took it too far when she tried to climb that old ladder.  
His heart had nearly stopped twice during their meeting: When he had seen her-and when he heard her screaming as she fell and broke her leg.

He hadn’t heard another sound from her, making him terrified at the prospect that he had lost her before he even had her.  
He had raised the elevator-and was relieved to find that her chest was rising and falling. His Darling wasn’t dead, only unconscious from the fall.  
A flux of emotions went through him all at once: relief and elation at her still breathing, anger-that she would try to scare him like that!- and worry, that such recklessness would pass on to their babies.  
Still, relief overrode all.  
She had looked so frightened when their eyes met for the first (?) time.  
Perhaps she had met many men who weren’t gentlemen. She was an angel in Hell, afraid of being corrupted at every turn.

Eddie wasted no time in carrying his unconscious love in his powerful arms, humming his favorite tune as he returned to the Vocational Block.  
No one stopped him, many scattering like cockroaches in the light when they heard him walk past, as if mere contact via sound or his shadow spelled their instant death.

Her leg was hurt, with a large splinter from the lift ceiling embedded through it, which he removed at once, before binding her foot with bandages from the first aid kits he had pilfered from the bathrooms.  
Then he had disrobed her-not to take advantage of her like a common rogue, never like that- but to further inspect any other injuries she would have incurred from her long exodus.  
He was pleased to find she was soft skinned, with an excellent bone structure few of the others possessed. He was not pleased to find she had that...vulgarity.  
However, that could wait. Her body had a heartbreaking array of bruises and judging from her facial injuries she had clearly not had a gentle touch upon her person before their paths crossed.  
And she looked so fragile he feared “fixing” her now would kill her….and that was the last thing he ever wanted.

He then shaved her from top to bottom, before covering her up with a blanket and went to burn those filthy rags she wore. He would make her something more befitting of her beauty, he promised himself.  
It was then he noticed his Darling’s possessions.  
There were several papers, a notebook (her diary?) and a camcorder.  
He gave an involuntary shudder at the last item, remembering…

No.

He would not think of those….monsters now.  
Why dwell on the past when his present and soon to be future bride was before him?  
He would not gaze upon the contents of her diary, he was raised better than that.  
Her camcorder though…

He was so glad his Darling was out like a light, for he had cried out aloud more than once when he began watching the footage on the camcorder.

How she had suffered under the same jackbooted fucks who had tried to finish what his father and uncle started….how brave she had been to survive Manera-  
he would die, unspoken agreement be damned, for laying hands on his Darling…and trying to cook her like she was game!-  
How clever she was to crawl through the vents to escape detection!

In the end, he was immensely glad he had watched the contents of the camcorder, despite feeling drained and fired up all at once, for he was now assured his Darling was no vulgar whore. No, she was a brave and intelligent woman who had gone through so much, to make her way to him.  
He couldn’t help himself as he bestowed a soft chaste kiss on her lips, letting himself be satisfied for now.  
When she woke, he would be gentle, he would be patient.  
If she was hungry, he would make her something to eat.  
They would talk, make plans for the future.  
Already, he was planning on making Manera’s demise nice and slow…..  
That would allow them the freedom of cooking without that accursed, classless bone saw disturbing the peace. 

 

-To The Bride- 

Waylon wasn’t sure how long he had been alive.  
For all he knew, it could have been hours or even weeks.  
There weren’t any clocks in the Vocational Block that weren’t broken, at least in the room which Eddie called “home”.

He wasn’t ungrateful at not becoming one of the many “failures” hanging like rotted game in the gymnasium, a grim reminder of what would happen if the Groom’s favor ever wavered.

Far from it.

He had played the “Mea Culpa” card, being submissive and smiling wanly every time Eddie fed and dressed him in surprisingly well-made dresses…and so far, when Gluskin wasn’t carving up the others or screaming slurs, he was practically a perfect suitor and caretaker.  
Never had the Whistleblower ever had a more dangerous yet doting nurse.  
And so, Waylon eventually recovered.

He had been agnostic for a good part of his life, but had a few peers in college who had dabbled in the occult. During one of their many talks, one girl-who was the only African American Goth he knew on campus- said she had tried to contact a long dead relative, asking what was Hell like.  
The response was chilling, worthy of a campfire story:  
Time stops.

Waylon presently wondered for a brief second if Hell –and Heaven- truly existed. Well, judging from what he had captured on his camcorder, he was sure he would give Dante a run for his money. There was no Vergil here-unless one counted the ‘priest’ painting symbols with blood on the walls- and his Beatrice was far, far away.

He was pulled out of his reverie with a door opening.  
Only one person had the set of keys to the entire block.

“Darling….”

He flinched but composed himself as quickly as he could, wondering what Eddie had in mind this time. The man had miraculously spared Waylon’s genitals for now….but who was to say he wouldn’t and couldn’t change his mind?

“…Y…yes Eddie?”

Even in the darkness of the room, it wasn’t hard to spot Eddie, for his bright blue eyes almost glowed like a cat’s, with a blinding smile to match.

“….Darling, I have a surprise for you.”

It was both terrifying and amazing how a man standing at 6”8 could look almost boyish, with his powerful hands behind his back.

“….Wha-

“Close your eyes.”

Waylon knew better than to question the Groom. Despite the other’s light mood, he knew a command when he heard it.  
“It’s a long walk, Darling, so I’ll carry you….but under /no/ circumstances are you to undo that blindfold or open your eyes.”

*What blindfold?*

A cool dark cloth covered the top part of his face as if in response.

“Are we clear, Darling?”

God, Eddie sounded so very eager, like a child on Christmas Day.

*Though judging by his file, I doubt he had anything close to a childhood…*

He nodded-and Eddie all but scooped him up as though he was but a bag of feathers, making Waylon grab onto the other like a child waking from a nightmare.

“Here we go….”

With his sight temporarily lost to him, the rest of his senses sharpened considerably.  
The acrid smells of smoke, bodily fluids (and other things he did not wish to know the origins of) felt like knuckle sandwiches while every whisper was a cross between philosophical babble and a language that didn’t even sound human anymore, amplified manifold.  
He found himself burying his face into the Groom’s chest, hating himself for relishing the searing heat the man gave off, hating the illusion of comfort. True, Eddie was dangerous….but with him on his side, he was technically the safest soul in the Asylum.

The Groom eschewed the elevator, walking down the spiral staircase before taking a turn to the left and then to the right.  
After what felt like forever, Waylon was gently placed down.  
True to his word, he kept his hands to his side as Eddie unlocked another door, saying he had to lock this area lest Manera ever have the stupidity and courage to leave his domain.

Eddie then took Waylon’s hand, effectively trapping the smaller hand in his, while relocking the door behind them as he escorted Waylon in.  
“Keep walking, Darling…keep going…almost there.”  
While his foot had almost completely healed, Waylon knew it would be a while before he ever tried running from the Groom again. His steps were quick but measured.  
He smelled something warm and...sweet.  
He was no culinary expert but having baked with his mother many years ago, he could tell sugar and cream had been used….

“Now you can look.”

With that, the younger male removed his blindfold to see….a large cake upon the table before him.  
“Happy Birthday, Darling.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, making them resemble liquid opals. Eddie’s smile faded slightly at the sight of his love’s tears.

“Do you not like it, Darling?”

Waylon hastily wiped his eyes with the back of one hand.

 

“Nonono…I mean YES. Yes I do….I didn’t…how did you…”

Eddie’s smile was back on his face in all his blinding glory.

“I woke up early today…and was pleased to find all the ingredients needed for a cake. It’s surprising no one’s raided this area yet. It’s been so long since I’ve made anything for anyone, really.”

“…I meant, how did you know it was my birthday?”

Surely his files weren’t thrown around for general viewing?

“You talk in your sleep Darling…don’t feel bad, it was adorable hearing you babble.”  
The Variant all but cooed as he placed both hands on Waylon’s shoulders.

“Make a wish, Darling.”

A part of him wanted to make a comment that wishes didn’t come true, candles or no but decided snark was not required at the present.  
Waylon closed his eyes a second time and made his wish…two, actually.

Eddie then took a knife- thankfully clean and not reeking of blood- and cut Waylon a generous portion, apologizing for the lack of candles and plates.

Waylon went to check the cupboards and returned with a fork and took a mouthful of birthday cake.

Who knew a madman could bake so well too?

He then took a forkful of cake and offered some to Eddie.

“Darling…I..couldn’t…”

“Please….I can’t finish it all by myself. Besides…you’ve been so kind to me. Its the least I could do. Thank you… once again.”

Eddie’s eyes glowed with adulation at that sentence as he accepted the offering, chewing and swallowing before responding with,

“You’re very welcome, my sweet.”

Eddie had chosen well.


	2. To The Groom

((Apologies for the long absence- have been finding time and effort to pen the conclusion to this fic… after all it is good to begin well, but even better to end well.I hope I have done just that. ))  
  
  
Waylon had become a collector.

It started out of necessity, collecting every spare battery in sight for his camcorder to light his way through the dark hallways.

Then there were documents, damning in every paragraph, every signature at the end, each caring more about profit and protecting dirty secrets than of the livelihoods of the Variants who languished here.

Eventually he came across small trinkets that were left behind by many of the employees of Murkoff in their hasty exodus that followed after the riots. Some showed that they weren’t total monsters clad in human skin, with family pictures (Waylon’s heart broke when he found a child’s doodle in one of the rooms, in a broken cupboard) that revealed a life (and heart) before Murkoff, random jewelry pieces coated in blood-one with a human hand still attached, the limb in the early stages of rigor mortis.

Waylon never touched any of the shiny trinkets. He was no magpie-or Manera.

Then one day, while crawling through the vents to look for a new way out, he noticed a room cleaner than most. For once he was glad it was locked as he went to explore.  
It had a few creature comforts, including a fireplace –with an air conditioner near the ceiling for summer days- and a state of the art LCD screen TV below said A/C.

What caught Waylon’s attention though, was what was lying in the left side of the room.

*******

A deep voice crooned about not setting the world on fire as Eddie returned “home”.  
He was running short on fabric and had gone to scavenge for materials before going to check on his Darling.  
Poor dear, singing in her gilded cage….at least until they wed. Then she would call it home.

The voice was clearer than most, little like the quality of his precious radio.  
But he would not be wasteful.  
He would do his best to fix said radio-but first, where/was/ that amazing song coming from?

Eddie eventually found both the source of the songs and his Darling waiting patiently for him.

None of the whores before he found Waylon would be this devoted, this quiet for so long.

“Where did you get that?”

The tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious and…full of awe at the sight of the newcomer.

“….One of the offices …I know you like song and dance.”

Waylon added the last part, hoping against hope Eddie didn’t realize he had been sneaking out- or if he did, he wouldn’t assume the worst.

In place of the radio, was a vintage recordplayer-complete with a variety of records.

It took Waylon all day to move both record player and records via the vents. Any other method would have gotten him torn to pieces by the Variants or noticed by the Groom, who had been stitching new dresses for his Darling, humming old love songs for the better part of the day.  
Now that Gluskin had found his one true love, word had it the Groom had closed shop….at least until some luckless fool ventured into his domain to try and claim it for his own.  
Recently, the old radio that played Eddie’s favorite station sounded scratchy and full of static. Waylon had to twist and turn knobs left and right to make it sound decently pleasant to the ear.  
Now, his fingers could have a chance to recuperate.  
The younger male hadn’t any idea when the Variant’s birthday was, but he had wanted to return the favor.  
“D..do you like it?”

Waylon asked, never once taking his eyes off the older male.

Eddie promptly responded by wrapping two powerful arms around him, giving Waylon a bear hug that could probably break a rib or two if he squeezed any harder.

“….O Darling,I /love/ it.”  
He said, his voice shaking with emotion.

None of the others had ever been this giving before. They always sneered, spat, swore and scratched at him like rabid animals, leaving him with a broken heart and marks not borne out of love.

“…Do you know how to dance, Darling?”

“…Wh..n..no.”

The question had totally come out of the blue.

Eddie relaxed his hold, giving a smile that wasn’t tainted by madness.

“Then I shall happily teach you.”

As the song continued, Eddie wrapped an arm round Waylon’s waist and took one of his hands in his and began to lead, smiling down at his Bride-to-be with adulation in his blue eyes.  
This would be “their” song; the one that would play as his Darling walked down the aisle and swore to love him and vice versa, till their hearts gave out.

 

“…I just want to start a great big flame down in your heart  
You see, way down inside of me  
Darling I have only one desire  
And that one desire is you  
And I know nobody else ain't gonna do.”

 

-END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.B. The song is “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire” by The Inkspots, one of my favorite classics introduced to me by the Fallout games.
> 
> N.B.B Thus ends my two parter tale but I will most /definitely/ be writing more! If you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them my way!


End file.
